


In The Midnight Hour

by DRHPaints



Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, Bill Hader RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, Angst, Bible Quotes, Blow Jobs, Church Sex, Confessional, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Other, Pining, Priest Kink, Priest!Bill, Shame, Smut, Temptation, hierophilia, referenced transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: When Father Bill Hader sees a struggling trans man named Troy attending the weekly free meal offered by the church, he discovers Troy is homeless and offers him a place to stay in the basement. As they get to know one another, Troy tempts Bill and tests his faith in ways he never thought possible.
Relationships: Bill Hader/Original Transmasculine Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	In The Midnight Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Written for phantomofthegallifreyanopera. Hope you enjoy <3
> 
> For those who are curious, the title is from a lyric in ‘Like a Prayer’ by Madonna
> 
> I apologize for any inaccuracies. Though I have a lot of Biblical knowledge, I'm not Catholic so if there are mistakes in that regard I'm sorry.

Unfolding the table, Sister Mary brought out a second basket of bread and Bill smiled. He thoroughly enjoyed the free meal the church provided every Wednesday. Not only was it a chance for Bill to be around his congregants in a more casual setting, but it allowed him to keep tabs on those in the parish who might be struggling. Typically the offering drew the same crowd. More than half were the elderly among his flock, those who were on a fixed income or who struggled to cook for themselves after a spouse passed away. Then there were the families, often led by single mothers either desperate to make ends meet or simply too busy to throw together a meal every night of the week. And of course, there were a few outliers. Though the church was positioned in a relatively wealthy rural area, Bill occasionally saw a drifter passing through, some lonely soul in need of hot food and a quiet place to rest.

As Bill ladled out the stew, grinning and greeting the regulars, the line slowly progressed before him. Seeing Marcia Flanagan approaching, he groaned internally. A recent divorcee with two young boys, even as a myopic priest Bill could tell she flirted with him and it made him deeply uncomfortable. He knew Marcia needed support since the end of her marriage, as her husband provided the majority of her financial stability, but he feared if he offered Marcia too much solace she would easily get the wrong idea.

Passing stew duty off to Sister Kathy, Bill dodged Marcia by skipping behind her to hand out the bread at the beginning of the line. A man Bill never saw before, around his age, sandy hair greasy and eyes puffy, shuffled forward with a heavy backpack draped over his shoulders. 

“Would you like some bread?” Bill offered, pushing up his glasses.

He didn’t meet Bill’s eyes, but nodded. “Yes, thank you.” It sounded as if he were making his voice falsely deep, forcing it below its natural register, and Bill couldn’t imagine why he would do such a thing as he accepted the bread and an empty bowl before making his way down the line.

Once everything was dished out and people were sitting at the picnic tables munching contentedly, Bill noticed the stranger carried his stew to a far off tree, parking at its base and shoveling the contents into his mouth as though he hadn’t eaten for days.

For a moment Bill considered leaving him be. Obviously the man wasn’t eager to be a part of the group. But then Bill remembered Jesus’ parable of The Lost Sheep in Luke, and glancing around at his gathered flock, he knew he had no choice but to amble over to the lamb crouching below the leaves.

“Hey there.” Lifting a hand in an awkward wave, Bill smiled.

The man slowly raised his eyes, and Bill saw many things there. Suspicion. Fear. Doubt. But certainly not welcome as he set his spoon down in his bowl. “Hey.”

Bill plopped down on the ground cross-legged and tilted his head. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

“First time.” Shrugging, he cleaned the bottom of his bowl with a corner of his bread and swallowed it voraciously. “I don’t usually go to, you know...service or mass or whatever…”

Nodding, Bill stuck out his lower lip. “No problem. We’re glad to have you here. You know, we also have a small food shelf inside, if you want to take a look.”

Eyeing him warily, the man gave Bill a slight nod. “Okay. Yeah. That sounds good.”

“Come on.” Standing, Bill brushed off his slacks. “I’ll show you.”

Hands in his pockets, Bill led him through the massive stone arches of the church to the cart laden with various things dropped off by parishioners and a couple of boxes donated by the local grocery store. “There you go.” Bill gestured with a large hand.

Extending his fingers, he paused in mid-air. “So I can just...have this stuff? I don’t need to...come on Sunday or like...make a donation or anything?”

Chuckling, Bill shook his head. “No, take whatever you can use.”

“Thank you very much.” Again, Bill’s ears perked up at his strangely altered voice. Then, looking closely he spotted his small, delicate hands. Soft, rounded hips. And when he bent over to rifle through the bottom box, Bill saw the outline of some kind of undergarment around his back and shoulders.  _ Oh. _

Noticing he was only taking the premade items, things discarded from the deli and hand fruits, Bill glanced at his backpack and frowned, but decided not to pry. “We do the meal here every Wednesday.” Bill piped up as he was zipping his choices into his bag. “And you’re welcome to come check the cart here anytime.”

“Thank you, sir.” Resolutely staring at the ground, he shifted his weight and nodded a little.

“I’m Bill.” Holding out a hand, the man looked at it with trepidation before extending his own to be encapsulated by Bill’s massive palm.

“Troy.” 

“Hello Troy.” Bill grinned, adjusting his glasses. “I’m glad you joined us today.”

Nodding, Troy offered a half smile. “Thanks...Bill.” Hiking his backpack up on his shoulder, Troy glanced around. “Alright, well...I’m going to head out…”

“Okay.” Bill rocked back on his heels. “Come back anytime.”

Giving a tiny fluttering wave, Troy met his gaze for the briefest of seconds and Bill saw his eyes were forest green pools of woe as Troy walked through the parking lot. To no surprise, there wasn’t a vehicle waiting for Troy, and Bill followed his tiny figure until it disappeared over the hill of the highway.

***

The following Wednesday, as Bill filled bowls with chicken and corn chowder graciously prepared by Sister Mary (Bill himself was useless in the kitchen, unless you needed to start a fire) he once again saw Troy in the queue. Though this week, Troy’s skin appeared ashen, cheeks slightly more hollow, and Bill couldn’t help but notice his backpack was missing. 

Once again Troy was exceptionally polite despite his inability to make eye contact, and Bill watched as he scurried to the tree, practically inhaling the food in his rapacity.

Everyone settled, Bill sauntered over to him, hands in his pockets. “Hey Troy.”

“Hey Father Bill.” Troy nodded, placing his empty bowl in the grass.

Bill made a face. “You can just call me Bill.” Aside from the elderly parishioners who sternly insisted on calling him Father Hader, and whenever it was necessary during mass or confessional, Bill preferred a more casual atmosphere.

“If you say so, Padre.” Smirking, Troy leaned back against the tree and Bill was relieved to see that whatever the horrors of his circumstances, they hadn’t robbed him of his sense of humor.

“Troy…” Softening his voice, Bill leaned in a little. “Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?”

Freezing for a moment, Troy stared at Bill, then gathered his knees up to his chest, hugging himself and shaking his head. “No…” Lips barely moving, his tone was higher than Bill heard before and he suspected it was much closer to Troy’s natural voice. “I...I tried to go to the Salvation Army since they’re the only shelter in town, but…” Blinking rapidly, Troy turned his face away. “They said...they said I couldn’t stay there.” 

Nodding sadly, Bill tore at the grass. “Yeah...unfortunately some who say they follow Jesus seem to forget about a lot of his teachings. The most important being that we love each other.” Flicking his cobalt eyes up to Troy, Bill ached for the broken man before him. “No matter what our differences.”

Troy drew the circle of his arms tighter about himself, head bobbing slightly. Considering Troy’s fragile form, his desperate position, Bill sighed and came to a decision. “Well...I don’t know if you’d want to…” Craning his neck, Bill glanced back at the church. “But you’re welcome to stay here with us. Until you get back on your feet. All we have to spare is a utility room in the basement and a cot, but if you can help clean up a bit, maybe hand out the leaflets at mass, I’ll be sure you get three meals a day and have a warm place to sleep.” Shrugging, Bill held up his palms. 

Raising his head, Troy blinked at him from red-rimmed eyes. “R-really?”

“Yeah.” Smiling, Bill stood and held out his hand to help Troy up. “Come on.”

Shoulders curled inward and eyes darting, Troy walked with Bill into the church and he led him to the basement. Unlocking the utility closet, he turned on the naked bulb overhead, its swinging light casting odd shadows over the half-full containers of cleaning supplies. Bill lifted the cot from behind a stack of bags of de-icer and unfolded it. “There. I’ll just get you some bedding and things. Then I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” 

Troy’s hand shot out and grabbed Bill’s wrist as he passed. Staring hard at his shoes, Troy cleared his throat. “Padre, you…you understand why the Salvation Army wouldn’t let me stay, right?” Troy raised his head, emerald eyes fearful. “I don’t...I don’t want to get comfortable here and then...you find out later…what I am...”

Resting a hand on his shoulder, Bill leaned down to meet Troy’s eyeline. “The reason they didn’t let you stay…” Bill began softly. “Is because they’re blinded by hate. And what you are…” Smiling, Bill gave him a squeeze. “Is a beautiful child of God. Nothing about you needs to change while you’re under this roof. Anyone gives you a hard time, you come and let me know.”

Troy covered his mouth with a trembling hand, nodding as tears spilled over his cheeks. Stepping forward he draped his arms around Bill’s broad shoulders, sobbing into his firm chest, weeks of pent up woe leeching into his black vestments.

Slightly taken aback, for a moment Bill blinked and froze, but then he allowed his strong arms to wrap around Troy, rubbing patient circles into his back and whispering softly, “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. You’re safe now.”

When he cried himself dry, Troy parted and wiped his face. “Thank you.” Nodding, Bill clapped him on the shoulder and left, returning with a pillow, blanket, towel, and toiletries before leading Troy to the shower. Thanking him, Troy had his first hot wash in weeks before collapsing into the cot and sleeping through to the following afternoon.

At first Troy skittered around like a church mouse, terrified of Bill and the others, only emerging from his room for meals and to do any chores asked of him. Over lunch one day Bill managed to get Troy to divulge that up until a month ago he lived with his family and was kicked out when he told them he was trans, trying to make his way on the streets ever since. For a while they didn’t discuss much other than the necessities, but soon Bill coaxed him into conversation, and after inviting Troy to join him in a game of chess after dinner, they found common ground in their love for film.

“So, where do you stand on Paul Thomas Anderson?” Troy asked as he studied the board, hand poised over a pawn.

Bill ticked his glasses up and beamed. “Oh he’s brilliant.  _ Magnolia, There Will Be Blood, Boogie Nights _ , everything he does is spectacular.”

Sliding his pawn forward, Troy raised an eyebrow. “ _ Boogie Nights _ ?” A smirk blossomed among his full lips. “Isn’t that kind of a  _ dirty _ movie, Father?”

Chuckling, the heat rose in Bill’s cheeks and he lifted a shoulder as he nervously moved a rook without thinking it through. “Yeah, well…” The truth was Bill was probably the most grateful soul on the planet for streaming services. Back in the day, Bill used to have to shed his collar, baseball cap pulled low and hoodie zipped up to his chin, just to rent an R-rated movie in his own town without garnering unwanted questions. He knew perhaps some of the content he consumed was less than appropriate, but Bill’s love for cinematography, directing, and screenwriting was irresistible. And he figured if he had to have one vice, film was a relatively tame one.

Troy eyed him. “Oh don’t worry, I’m not judging you.” Snatching Bill’s rook, Troy smiled. “How’s it go?  _ ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone _ ’? That’s definitely not me.” Troy’s green eyes met Bill’s as he moved his queen forward with trepidation. “Plenty sinful.”

Tittering, Bill was unsurprised when Troy clobbered him and as he crawled into bed that night, Troy’s viridescent gaze seemed to follow.

***

_ Warm. Tight. Thrusting. Sandy hair beneath scrambling fingers. Moaning. Deeper. Harder. Green eyes. A smiling, wet mouth. So close… _

Gasping awake, Bill’s heart hammered as he blinked in the darkness. As per usual his sparse room was empty, cold. No sign of the intruder who so rudely interrupted his chaste slumber. 

Cock straining beneath his boxers, Bill balled his hands into fists and sighed. Of course he woke with erections regularly, he was a healthy man in his early 40s after all, but typically they were run-of-the-mill morning erections, no particular source he could blame. Or on the occasions he did have erotic dreams, they were usually nameless, faceless people, bodies Bill interacted with that were easy to shake in the light of day.

But this dream...it was so  _ real. _ Troy’s soft skin, the strands of hair beneath his fingers, the way his mouth…

Bill shook his head, reaching into his bedside drawer to grab his Bible. Opening to Psalm 23, one of his favorites, he began to read:

_ The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures… _

Green. Troy’s eyes, beckoning Bill to pleasures unknown, floated before him and Bill brought a hand to his brow in frustration. Flipping through to First Corinthians, Bill tried to steel himself:

_ Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. _

Bill repeated the words again and again until he went soft, mentally scraping the residue of the dream from his mind and chucking it into the flames like unwanted chaff. But when Bill emerged from his room and strolled through the halls of the church, he discovered Troy scrubbing the floors, hoodie discarded in his exertions and sweat causing his white undershirt to cling to a spot on his back as his ass wiggled back and forth with his movements. 

_ Turn away, Bill _ . Firmly making himself take a few more steps, he lifted a hand in greeting. “Good morning.”

“Oh, hey Bill.” Sitting back on his heels, Troy dragged a forearm over his dewy forehead. “How’d you sleep?”

Bill hoped Troy didn’t notice the shift of his eyes before he nodded. “Well, and you?”

“Decent. Still getting used to the cot, but it beats the hell out of concrete.” Troy grinned. 

Chuckling, Bill bobbed his head. “Alright, well, I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Hey.” Gesturing at him with the scrub brush, Troy tilted his head. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight? Remember that Criterion one I told you about that you hadn’t seen?”

Bill looked off in the distance and narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah, what was the name again? Something strange. Hed…”

“ _ Hedwig and the Angry Inch _ .” A wide smirk spread over Troy’s features. “And it’s definitely strange. And a musical. But I have a feeling you’ll like it, anyway.”

Shrugging, Bill grinned. “Sure. After dinner?”

“Sounds good.” Troy nodded and turned his attention back to the floors as Bill made his way to the office.

Sitting together on the couch, Bill was once again grateful the others in the church didn’t particularly care for movies and television as he and Troy had the room to themselves. Then, catching himself, Bill wondered  _ why _ he was so eager to be alone in the room with Troy, fidgeting as he brought up the movie on the screen.

“Now…” Troy’s fingers rested on his knee and alarms began to sound in Bill’s head. “I should warn you before you press play, Bill. This movie...it’s very…” Hands groping in the air as though he were trying to catch the word, Troy tipped his head from side to side. “Well, there’s really no other way to put it. It’s gay.”

Blinking, Bill cleared his throat. “Oh...well, that’s alright. It’s not like I haven’t seen...things.”

Eyebrow arching, the corner of Troy’s mouth ticked up. “Oh yeah? What kind of things, Bill?”

Giggling in his nerves, Bill wiped his hands on his pants. “I don’t know...I...I saw  _ Brokeback Mountain  _ when that came out, I suppose.”

Troy just narrowed his eyes. “Hmm.”

Pressing play, he apparently decided not to question Bill any further and Bill breathed a sigh of relief as the movie rolled. The story was fascinating and the music was spectacular, but two scenes made Bill squirm. Hedwig, the main character, a transfeminine rock goddess who escaped East Germany by having a botched sex change and marriying a GI, was an incredibly engaging character. But when she gave her young boyfriend a handjob in the bathtub, Bill didn’t know where to look. And it was even more difficult when she humped her transmasculine lover in their bed, Bill’s brain spinning all sorts of unwanted scenarios as Troy’s hand rested not six inches from his own.

Periodically through the movie Bill thought Troy was peeking at him, but he couldn’t be sure and he was afraid to turn his head in Troy’s direction, staunchly facing forward and doing what he could to keep his fingers still. When the credits rolled, Troy brought his knee up on the couch and playfully smacked Bill’s chest. “So, what did you think?”

“I loved it.” Nodding, Bill lifted his hands and began gesturing excitedly as he often did when discussing film. “I mean the music, and the performances, and the story. So unique. And I can truly say I didn’t know how things were going to turn out for Hedwig. It’s not often a movie can keep me guessing.”

“Oh, I’m so glad.” Squeezing his forearm, Troy tilted his head, green eyes piercing. “It’s important to me that you liked it.”

Chuckling, Bill nodded. “I really did.” Staring back with his sapphire eyes, it was a moment before Bill realized he’d flipped his palm over and he and Troy were holding hands. Retracting quickly, he looked away and stood up. “Well, I...I’m exhausted. I’m going to head to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Bill thought he heard a note of disappointment in Troy’s voice, but maybe that was his imagination. “Goodnight, Bill.”

“Goodnight.” Going to his room as quickly as he could without running, Bill closed the door behind him and let out a deep breath, the crucifix above his bed staring back at him in accusation.

***

The following Sunday, Bill recruited Troy to hand out leaflets. After nearly a month at the church, Troy applied for a dozen jobs in town, but unfortunately once he got to the background check portion, suddenly the position would be ’no longer available.’ Bill ground his teeth in fury that there were so many small minds gathered in his area, and for that week’s liturgy he diverged slightly from the text The Church as a whole was working through, sending a message about the importance of love and acceptance.

Afterwards, Troy approached him, smiling. “You did a really good job up there today.”

“Oh.” Pushing up his glasses, Bill tipped his head. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Also, you are  _ so _ funny.” Touching his expansive shoulder, Troy grinned. “I was crying with laughter when you were doing the voice of the Judgmental Lady.” 

Not one to accept praise easily, Bill gave a half smile and could sense his cheeks reddening. “Oh, thank you. Yeah, I don’t know...always been able to do silly voices I guess…”

“Well keep it up.” The way Troy seemed not to stare at him, but into him, made Bill itchy all over.

Bill nodded. “Alright, well...I have to go do confessional. I’ll see you later?”

“Sounds good.” With a wave Troy went to collect the handouts from the pews and Bill stepped into the confessional booth. As interesting as some of the things his parishioners divulged could be, the time in between seated in a small, stuffy box was mind-numbing and once again Bill was grateful for the advancement of technology as he paged through a George Saunders novel on his phone.

A handful of people angry at their spouse, one young voice who stole a pair of earrings from a store and promised they would bring them back, and a crying woman who admitted an affair later, Bill glanced at his watch and saw he still had half an hour left, when the door beside slid open and someone knelt before him.

Bill welcomed them in the name of Christ, making the sign of the cross, but the other party didn’t follow suit. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. This is my first confession.” 

_ Troy?  _ Bill was almost positive, with the unnatural depth of his tone and the familiar outline, and he cleared his throat, Troy taking such an important step in his faith gave him hope. “Very well, my child. And what is it you would like to confess?

“I’ve been having impure thoughts.”

Shifting in his seat, Bill’s nose flared. “That’s...understandable. As humans we all struggle with sexual desire sometimes. It’s what we do about those thoughts that matters.”

“Do you, Father?”

Breath catching, Bill swallowed. “Do I what?”

“Have impure thoughts.”

Fingers curling over the edge of his chair, Bill let out a slow breath. “Sometimes…”

Silence radiated from the other side of the divider for a moment. “You see...Father, I feel especially guilty because...these impure thoughts I’m having. They’re...they’re about a man of the cloth.”

Closing his eyes, Bill told himself to inhale, to exhale. Hands clasped in his lap, he stared down at his fingers for a moment, then, licking his lips, he leaned closer to the divider. “And…” Voice low, barely whispering, Bill’s question came out tremulous. “And what kind of thoughts do you have?”

An audible exhale floated to Bill that was just short of a moan and his cock twitched beneath his slacks. “Oh, Father...so  _ many… _ ” Bill noticed the shadow growing larger as they rested their forehead against the mesh. “I think about...touching him. My hands sliding over his body, his strong arms, firm chest, thick thighs…”

Cock stiffening, Bill’s hands were folded so tightly his knuckles were white. “I see...and is there...are there others?”

“Mmm... _ yes _ .” Purring, the shadow of a hand trailed down and Bill’s lip quivered. “When I am with this man, I want nothing more…” Lowering their voice, Bill leaned in, placing his forehead against theirs, warmth of their skin evident through the thin fabric. “Than to get down on my knees and show you how well I  _ pray. _ ”

Letting out a sound somewhere between a whine and a sob, Bill slapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. Eyes clenched shut and speaking through gritted teeth, every muscle in his sharp jaw jumped as he hurriedly rattled off, “Say ten Hail Mary’s and fifteen Our Father’s. Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.” Bill slammed the window shut, breath shallow and hands trembling. 

Bill waited until he heard the other door open. For a moment it seemed Troy was standing just outside, and Bill began to shake at the idea that he might come in, tossing the door open and exposing Bill and his lust-ridden body to the light, or worse, squeezing into the confined box with him, hungry mouths and roaming hands and-

_ Fuck! _ Smacking his forehead roughly with his palms, Bill laid back against the wall, desperately wishing he could carve this part out of himself. Eventually, after heavy recitation of Scripture, Bill’s erection went down and he was able to poke his head out of the booth, glancing to and fro before rushing down the hall to his room, thankful he didn’t encounter Troy along the way. But Bill knew he couldn’t avoid him forever.

On his way to dinner Bill was petrified. He had no idea what to do, what to say. But Troy greeted him as he did every other day, striking up a conversation about Scorsese, and for a moment Bill wondered if what he encountered in the confessional wasn’t some type of Desirous Phantom, a demon sent to tempt Bill from his vocation and torment him with the unspoken thoughts that swirled around his mind these past few weeks. That is, until Troy cleared the table and, picking up Bill’s plate, the tip of one, single finger dragged over the back of Bill’s hand as he held his gaze.

Eyes following Troy as he carried the dishes toward the kitchen, Bill unconsciously touched his collar, swallowing past the lump in his throat. As soon as the table was cleared, Bill slipped back to his room, holing up for the evening and fervently praying that he wouldn’t have any further inappropriate encounters with Troy.

But then a creature of temptation scrambled up Bill’s spine, tugging on his joined earlobe, voice dripping with poisonous allure as it whispered:  _ But what if?  _ What if he  _ did _ run into Troy again? What if that finger trailed elsewhere? What if he could have Troy’s hands, his mouth…

Stiff and sweating under the blankets, Bill writhed and pounded his fists on the narrow mattress. Eyes snapping open, Bill breathed through his flared nose, jaw clenched and shaking with fury as he stared at the ceiling.

“ _ Why?!”  _ Barking the word aloud in the empty room, Bill demanded an answer of his so-called Savior.  _ Why am I being tested this way, Lord? I’ve been a good and faithful servant, haven’t I? I try to love, to serve, to give. What are you trying to teach me? Whatever it is, God...I’m failing. _

Hands over his face, Bill took a shuddering breath. Continuing to shield his eyes, his fingers crept below the waistband of his boxers and encircled his hard cock. Giving himself a timid pull, Bill at first thought maybe he could stop, maybe if he did it just a little, that would be enough. But after years of restraint, the sensation was exquisite

Jerking wildly, Bill thought back to his dream of Troy, of burying himself into his hot, eager mouth and his voracious green eyes as he sucked him. Uncontrollable moan escaping his lips, Bill turned over, pausing to lick his palm before grabbing himself again, shoving his face in the pillow and humping his warm fist as he whimpered a wet spot into the fabric. “ _ Please, Troy, Please! _ ” Bill caught himself whining as he shook his tiny mattress, hips jumping and room filled with the sound of squealing springs as he tightened his fingers around his thick cock. Left eye twitching and free hand clawing at the sheets, Bill bit down on his pillow, shuddering as a wet spot spread beneath him, whispering. “ _ Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me. _ ” 

***

The next day Bill was grateful it was the policy among those living at the church to do their own laundry as he shamefully balled up his sheets and carried them to the laundry room. Bill tried to hide, to be subtle, but a priest in a church tends to stand out, and besides, he would have to see Troy at mealtimes anyway. Troy just smiled at him, amiable and apparently carefree, nowhere in his facial expression did it betray the slightest hint that he was aware he was torturing a man of God.

After dinner, Troy sauntered up to him and Bill shoved his hands in his pockets to avoid fidgeting. “Hey, you wanna play chess?”

Eyes shifting, Bill shook his head. “Um….I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Oh, okay.” Blinking, Troy smirked. “Checkers?”

Bill met his gaze, saw Troy’s eyebrow slowly rising. “I should really...I have some studying to do…” 

“Alright.” Troy nodded, tilting his head. “Just let me know whenever you want to  _ play. _ ” Holding onto Bill’s dark blue eyes, Troy’s plump lips seemed to pout as they stood across from one another in the drafty stone hallway.

Staring in silence, Bill slowly nodded. “I will.”

Waving, Troy said goodnight and Bill was rooted to the spot, transfixed by the shape of his body as he rounded the corner to his room, all solid foundation covered in soft insulation and somewhere Bill desperately wanted to call home.

Pulling the thin blanket over himself, Bill was determined not to make a repeat of the night before, no matter how aroused he might become. He knew how difficult that habit could be to break, and if he could write it off as a one time thing, an aberration, perhaps God would forgive him, even if Bill wasn’t certain he could forgive himself.

Immersed in his thoughts, when Bill heard the gentle tapping at his door, every muscle in his body strained as his head turned. A shadow shifted in the gap beneath and Bill swallowed hard.  _ Just pretend you’re asleep. Just stay in bed. If you don’t answer, he’ll go away, right? Just don’t move, Bill. _

But Bill’s feet hit the floor as he replaced the glasses on his face, legs taking steps of their own volition and hand reaching for the knob as his brain screamed in protest. Opening it revealed Troy, standing in his undershirt and shorts, fingers rubbing the opposite elbow.

“Hello.” Bill peered down at him, blinking.

Troy nodded. “Hey.”

For a moment they stood quietly before Bill cleared his throat. “Did you need something, Troy?”

Meeting his oceanic eyes, Troy delicately placed his fingers over Bill’s where they rested on the doorframe. “Yeah…”

Bill stared at Troy. Saw the yearning, the hope, the ache he had for him, and Bill summoned every ounce of restraint in his being. “I’m sorry, Troy. I...we...can’t do that.”

Stepping a little closer, allowing his head to fall, Troy’s voice was low. “So you’re saying you don’t…” Rising to look at him again, Troy’s face was incredibly close. Bill could smell the shampoo he used. “Want me?”

Mind yelling at him to pull back, to slam the door, Bill’s body staunchly held firm. “It’s, um…” Voice tremulous, Bill fought to continue. “It’s not an issue of ‘wanting’ Troy. We just can’t.”

“Why not?” Fingertips barely touching Bill’s firm chest, his eyes fell shut in rapture and he let out an audible exhale. 

“Troy, you...you know why not.” Swallowing, Bill took Troy’s hand, but instead of guiding it away from himself, found he was clutching him near.

The creak of a doorway. Bill snapped his neck as he saw Brother Thomas’ room start to open. “C’mon!” He whispered, ushering Troy inside his room hastily before Thomas could see him half dressed coming to visit him in the night.

Shutting behind them, Bill put his ear to the door and hearing nothing other than shuffling steps and a yawn, he sighed with relief. Until he realized he was alone in his room with Troy.

“Bill…” Getting close, Troy addressed his shoulder, not looking at him. “Do you want me?”

Back to the door, Bill blinked. “Troy, it...it doesn’t matter if I want you or not, I…”

Taking a half step forward, Bill could sense the warmth radiating off his body. “But do you?”

Fingers splayed against the wall, Bill’s voice squeaked out even higher than usual. “...Yes.”

Swiveling close, Troy gently rested his hand on Bill’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “I want you, too, Bill…” He murmured, soft cheek grazing Bill’s stubble. “You’ve been so kind to me. I just want to make you feel good.” Breath shallow and shivering, Bill struggled to remain still as Troy’s words soaked into him. “If you want I could just use my hand…” Fingertips pressing into his chest, Bill shuddered as his cock twitched beneath his boxers. Voice deepening, a sultry whisper, hot and ticklish against Bill’s joined ear. “Or I can use my mouth. Suck you. Make you feel so good.”

Knees buckling a little as his cock thickened, Bill blinked and steadied himself, chest heaving and eyes clenched tight as Troy flattened his warm body against him. “Or…” Troy’s hand snuck up to cup Bill’s sharp jaw, lips brushing the softest of kisses below his ear on the other side. “ _ You can fuck me.”  _ Mouth moving over his skin, Bill shook helplessly. “ _ And you can cum inside me. Anything you want, Bill.” _

Letting out a distressed mewl, Bill squirmed up and down on the doorway. Troy took a couple of steps away from him, emerald eyes boring into his own. “But you have to decide Bill. If you want me, I’m right here. Otherwise, tell me to leave and I will.”

Bill looked between Troy and the crucifix glaring down at them from his wall, wrestling in himself. Dam breaking, he flew at Troy, grasping his face in both of his large hands and mashing their mouths together, unable to drink from the fountain of his lips fast enough as Troy tugged his shirt overhead, exposing his built chest and strong arms, dainty hands kneading greedily.

It was as if Bill couldn’t decide where to touch him, traveling from Troy’s face to his arms to his ass, desperately trying to summon every inch of his skin to himself as he inhaled his mouth. Troy led them to the bed where they collapsed, a pile of writhing limbs and he managed to break away from Bill’s persistent mouth.

“Tell me what you want, Bill.” Caressing his stubbled cheek, he studied Bill’s stormy blue eyes.

Tugging at Troy’s shirt, Bill shook his head. “I...just…” A strangled noise tore from Bill’s throat. “ _ You.” _ Fusing their lips together again, Bill wrestled furiously with Troy, as his fingers inched down his abdomen, pausing just above the waistband of Bill’s boxers. Bill took Troy’s hand and shoved it down, nodding feverishly against his mouth and moaning as Troy encircled his cock. 

Troy pumped and Bill’s eyelids fluttered, pulling away from their kiss to bury his face in the crook of Troy’s neck, panting into his flesh and rocking into his palm as he hooked an arm around Troy’s shoulder, fingers digging in viciously. 

“ _ Yes! Yes! Please, Troy! Please! _ ” Bill begged, hips thrusting frantically as he whimpered against his skin.

Troy kissed along his crisp jaw line. “You want my mouth, Bill? Hmm? Want me to suck you? I want to so badly.”

Bill patted his shoulder urgently. “ _ Yes! Now! Please! _ ” He whined and Troy rolled him onto his back, shuffling down Bill’s extended form and mercifully sinking his lips down to the root.

The noises pouring from Bill’s lips sounded like sobs of relief as Troy hollowed his cheeks and bobbed, yanking Bill’s thick cock hard and fast into his mouth as his tongue pressed firmly to the underside.

Clamping one hand over his mouth, the other fisted into Troy’s sandy hair and Bill planted his heels in the sheets, pelvis rising bodily from the mattress as he pushed him down and frenetically humped Troy’s face. 

Some distant part of Bill knew what he was doing wasn’t okay, that he should ask Troy before forcing his cock deep into the warm recesses of his throat, but Bill was at his limit for shame as he slammed into his tight mouth, whining condensation around his own face and fogging his glasses. And Troy didn’t seem to mind, sucking intensely and kneading Bill’s thick thighs as he moaned around his sensitive flesh.

Balls tightening, Bill removed the pillow, dropping Troy’s head and hurriedly tapping his shoulder. “ _ Troy. I...I… _ ” Gasping, Bill’s back arched and for a second everything was white, sensations nothing short of divine as his limbs rattled and his pelvis jumped, Troy swallowing pulse after pulse of Bill’s hot, salty cum as he relaxed back onto the bed with a broken whimper, left eye flickering and breathless.

Troy slowly released Bill’s cock from his lips, lifting the collar of his shirt to wipe his eyes and mouth. Joining Bill at the top of the bed, the mattress was so narrow he had no choice but to lay half on top of him as he carded his fingers through his chestnut waves. 

“Are you okay?”

Dark blue eyes blinking open, Bill lifted a shoulder as he took Troy’s hand. “I...I don’t know…” Staring at the ceiling, he swallowed and adjusted his glasses. “I just...I just threw away over twenty years of my life...my calling.” Looking at their joined fingers, Bill gave Troy a squeeze. “And I don’t know if I regret it or not.”

Nodding, Troy rested his head on Bill’s vast shoulder, tossing his leg around his waist. “Well…” Troy spoke softly, hand trickling through Bill’s dark chest hair. “Have you ever...felt called to anything else?”

Bill was quiet. If he was honest with himself, Bill talked to God, but it was years since God spoke back. His faith was arid, empty, and for ages he went through the motions for the sake of those around him. Instead it was in things like films, and those moments when the congregation was laughing at one of his jokes during mass that he noticed the familiar divine spark. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a foolish path to follow.

“Yeah.” Voice steady, Bill gave a gentle nod. “Maybe.” Facing Troy, Bill shifted so they lay side by side. “But...it’s been so long. I don’t know anything else. I would be…” Raising Troy’s knuckles to his mouth, Bill barely pressed them to his lips. “Scared. To start over. Out there in the real world.”

Troy shrugged. “I’m starting over, too. And yeah, you should be scared. It’s scary, but…” Claiming Bill’s lips, Troy wove their tongues together for a moment before parting. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

Smiling, Bill slithered his arms underneath Troy’s, face in the crook of his neck and holding his body close. “I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!


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